The Legolmo: The Novelization of the Stop Motion Epic
by Fritzelbitz
Summary: A location intended for peace is the site of one of the greatest last stands in the history of the multiverse. Multiple franchises with a focus on Marvel. Others include Percy Jackson, Star Wars, and a heavy dose of fictionalized history. No spoilers for Infinity War (yet), but seeing it is recommended before reading.
1. Prologue

Author's Note: This is the rewritten novelization of a Lego stop motion film I am making. I will post when it is uploaded.

The Legolmo was originally created as a Church. A place of peace and worship. It never had military designs during its construction. Fate however, had its own plans...

Blood is a smell unlike any other. No other smell causes such a strange mixture of emotion and primal instinct. The soldiers who now stood along the walls of the compound could only smell one thing, and that was blood. The blood of their comrades, and their enemies. The battle had begun at dawn, and lasted until just before sunrise. Though it was technically a victory, none of them were in a celebratory mood. They had lost far more than they killed. Outside the walls the ground was almost completely covered in dead. Their dead. Their friends. The "victorious" soldiers did not cheer, or even talk at all. They stared at the aftermath of the previous hours' carnage in horrified silence.

Inside the compound, the scene was just as ghastly. However, here bodies of the defenders could be seen. At the north wall, Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America, could be seen lying on his back, with a vacant expression and a hole in the center of his forehead. Around him were the majority of his troops, who had valiantly attempted to hold the position.

In the plaza, corpses littered the ground everywhere. Panicked defenders, maddened by the simple instinct of self preservation had fallen back across the plaza to the buildings along the east wall. These shelters served as nothing more than large coffins. Once inside, they had nowhere else to go, and with attacking soldiers on their heels, were butchered with saber and bayonet.

The terrible losses suffered storming the walls had infuriated the besiegers, who had spared no one, as per their orders. Inside the infirmary, the wounded and sick had been bayoneted in their beds. The surgeon lay just inside the door, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, with a ball shot through his chest.

In front of and inside the chapel, the last survivors had held as long as they could. They lay where they fell, most still gripping weapons. At a crude barricade set up in front of the chapel, the doomed defenders had been determined to simply make their deaths count as much as possible. In the center of the barricade, a large hole had been blasted with a cannonball. Two defenders had simply been reduced to pulp. Several more had been riddled with chunks of wood. Among them lay Peter Parker. He had been very near a large crate, which had burst at the impact of the ball. A large, jagged chunk of wood was embedded directly in his heart. He had a surprisingly peaceful look on his face, considering the terrible wound.

Inside the chapel, the last ones to fall were lying in a small group. Star-Lord had been stabbed at least three times with bayonets. Percy Jackson had been hit with no fewer than five musket balls. Annabeth's corpse still clutched a sword which was embedded in the body of a grenadier. Groot had a sapper's axe embedded deep in his face.

In a spare building near the kitchen, Haymitch Abernathy, very ill, was laying lifeless in his bed. He had been stabbed so many times that the blankets were saturated with blood. A locket with a picture of his wife Effie was held in his dangling hand.

Outside the chapel by the palisade stood Lord Business and his staff. General Hacienda, General Hayes, General Stephens, Colonel Templeton, and Colonel Griffith. Lord Business was in a good mood. He felt that one of the last obstacles between him and total victory had been removed. The rest of his staff were far less enthusiastic. Too many of their soldiers had fallen taking this damned church. It may have been a victory, but it tasted more bitter than many defeats.

"My god! They're dead! They're all dead! Business killed them all! The Legolmo has fallen!"

Jacob Benford, a Brixian scout, was screaming into the night as he rode into where Tony Stark's surviving army was encamped. People began to leap from their tents, and look around for the source of the shouts. The word soon spread, and panicked shouts of, "We are all doomed!", or "The LRA will come for us next!" could be heard. Benford began to regret his dramatic entrance as he heard another sound. Hysterical weeping. From parentless children, widows, widowers, and… Jacob's heart clenched. And _Aunts._ He saw someone he recognized, and felt his stomach clench horribly. Suddenly, he heard a voice bark his name. He dismounted, and stood to attention.

Tony Stark approached him, a look of utter murder on his face. "What in God's name are you doing?! Announcing this to the whole damn camp at this hour! Is that the way these poor souls need to be notified of the death of their friends and f-fa-" He seemed unable to finish his sentence. "My tent. Now." These words were monotone and hoarse, but left no room for argument. Benford followed Stark into the tent. He sat down at a chair next to a large table. The table had a detailed map of the region on it, and his eyes were instantly drawn to Brixar.

Jacob had been there when the Legolmo fell. He could see it through his spyglass, and was utterly helpless to prevent the massacre. He had stayed all morning, careful to avoid being spotted. He watched as the flames of the funeral pyres unceremoniously consumed the bodies of the slain defenders. No prisoners had been taken.

Tony Stark was standing in the corner, staring blankly at the wall. Benford was not one to understand the social graces of mourning, and began to speak, "What do we do now, General? How can we stand against the LRA now that they are no longer detained in Brixar? All of our best troops were there! So many good-"

"Shut your mouth or I will shut it for you." Stark began to speak. His voice was calm, but conveyed ice cold fury. The kind of fury that very few experiences can bring on. "Di-did, did they die well?" Stark sounded so utterly devastated that Jacob was rendered speechless. He waited ten whole seconds before answering. "Yes, at least 3 to 4 attackers dead for every defender. I saw the canister shot tear through the LRA ranks. I couldn't see the interior fighting, but they paid a heavy price to even reach the walls."

"What about the defenders? Were there any prisoners at all?" Stark asked, almost desperately.

Benford shook his head sadly. "They burned the bodies of the defenders. After taking souvenirs from the more famous ones." Tony's face looked even more furious than before, if such a thing was possible.

Tony still appeared to be looking for any possible chance of there being survivors. "Is it possible some escaped? Did you get a count of the bodies? Dammit, Jacob! Answer me! Who do you think you are to explain to me that-"

"He is dead, Tony."

"He?! There were close to 200 defenders!"

"He is dead, Tony. I saw his body. I am sorry."

Stark made an inhuman roaring noise, drew his pistol, and fired it into the ground. He then threw it at a mirror, shattering the glass. He collapsed onto his cot, tears streaming down his face. Jacob had no idea what to do. His Commander, the last hope of opposition to the Centralists and a free Brixas, was crying. It did not take long for Stark to compose himself. He stood up, looked at the mirror in disgust, and resumed talking, "Where did we go so wrong, Benford? How has it come to this?"


	2. Chapter 1

2 Months Earlier

November 10, 2019

Saint Brickington, Brixas

The noise inside the state house was deafening. The two sides of the furious debate were unbelievably certain that their position was the right one, and could not understand how anyone could possibly disagree. While one side called for independence, the other side called for continuing the fight until President Business was deposed.

President William Business had been elected President of the Lego Multiversal Republic several years before, as candidate of the new and radical Centralist Party. His platform was increased government power, and many measures of centralization. Several of these were reasonable, and even necessary. But a massive increase in executive power, taxes, and military size and budget made many moderates nervous. On April 7th, 2017, Business, with the backing of many new army officers had engineered a coup d'etat. It had succeeded, and Business declared himself President for Life.

Since that day, the Leadership of the Liberal and Conservative parties had been working together, struggling to decide what to do. Both agreed that if politics failed, they would need to take up arms. A United Front was formed against the Centralists, but its reckless commanders attacked before they were prepared. To compound the problem, many army commanders had already raised their flag in rebellion, and were put down. This gave Business the excuse he needed to consolidate power. The senate had been progressively stripped of its power, and the United Front was now losing ground on all fronts.

Brixas had proven itself to be a thorn in Business's side for quite a while. The local officials refused to enforce many of his more radical policies, and many had been sacked or even executed for insubordination. Martial law had been declared on October 21, 2019. Brixas rose in rebellion, and a provisional government had been declared.

Brixas proved to be a popular destination for many former fighters of the United Front, along with their families. Tony Stark, along with the rest of the Avengers, had thrown their lot in with Brixas. They had little choice. The Centralists were determined that they would be executed, seeing them as an unpredictable element. Stark had been given command of the Brixian Army, but his opinions and decisions were widely ignored by the armchair generals who ran the provisional government.

It was, like many planets nearby, technologically locked. Technology beyond a certain level simply refused to function, with very few exceptions. This phenomenon was not well understood, but provided a unique experience. Battles were fought in the style of early 19th century Earth. Stark's Iron Man suit was without many functions here, and he had to rely increasingly on the local tech.

The town of Saint Brickington had served as the de facto seat of the Brixian government for several months. Recently, the town of Brixar, the last bastion of Centralist power on the planet, had been captured. General Hacienda, commander of the garrison at the Legolmo, a fortified church just outside of the town, had surrendered. His army had been granted safe passage to withdraw from the planet, on the condition that they would never return.

When news arrived of the victory in Brixar, the debate only intensified. The War Party called for an immediate expedition to assist the United Front, and an attack on Legoton, the nearest enemy planet. The Independence Party called for a negotiated settlement with the Centralist Government.

"We swore loyalty to the Republic under the Federal Constitution!" shouted William Beck, who had been insisting for the past few days that it was their duty as citizens of the Republic to assist the United Front.

"Business invalidated that document when he declared himself dictator!" yelled Zachary Crowley, who had been arguing for independence since before the capture of Brixar.

Outside the State House, Peter Parker, better known as Spiderman, had been listening to the deafeningly loud debate. He realized that Tony Stark was required. He seemed to be the only high-ranking official who know what he was doing. Peter started toward the Hotel Lobby, where Tony was eating his breakfast.

"Mr St- er, General"

Tony looked up. "I won't be a general much longer if these lunatics have their way. I suppose they need me in there?" Peter nodded. Stark sighed, took a last look at his breakfast, and got up. The two began walking briskly toward the State House.

"Peter, why did they put me in command of the army if they won't let me run it?"

Parker shrugged, "Maybe they thought your fame would make them look good. They are talking about attacking Legoton, and will need all the recruits they can."

Tony, who had just taken a sip of coffee, spat it onto the ground, "What?! There's no way we can take Legoton! We barely have enough soldiers to hold Brixas as it is! You give them a taste of meat, and they want the whole roast. I'll talk some sense into them.

Peter looked at him nervously, "Mr. Stark, I think they will want you to be, uh, respectful. I believe they referred to you as an arrogant-" Peter could not finish, as Tony had already walked inside.

He took one look around the room, then at the star chart on the wall. The room went quiet when the politicians saw him. He calmly walked to the star chart, "So, you are going to attack Legoton?" There were murmurs around the room. He looked at the map and confirmed that that was their plan. Tony traced the path of the proposed attack with his finger, and began to speak, "Are you trying to lose the war? Do you really think this is a realistic plan? What the hell do you hope to accomplish by attacking some backwater?"

The President of the Provisional Government, Benjamin Stein, began to shout at Stark. His melodramatic voice always irritated Tony. "You opposed an attack on Brixar, and we won! Now you oppose finishing what we started! Perhaps sir, you are simply a coward! I call for a vote of no confidence in General Stark!"

Hands went up around the room. Tony looked around. He saw that he had lost. He stormed out of the State House, dejected and disgusted. Peter had heard the whole exchange, and was respectful enough to stay quiet. Peter was unsure of what would happen next. Brixas was the last hope they had for safety from the centralists.

Tony went to get a drink. He had been drinking more and more as the situation grew bleeker. While everyone else seemed to be celebrating, the Avengers could tell it was an illusion. This war was far from over, and they would soon face the full might of the Lego Republican Army. While the delegates were already planning how to enjoy the peace they perceived already won, the LRA would almost certainly be preparing an invasion. Their attack would be sudden and in great force. Tony saw the only hope would be to fight a defensive war, and try for a decisive battle. The current use of forts and fortified towns was not the way to win. The myth of the impregnable fortress had been proven false more times than Tony could count. All the cannon wasted on forts could easily be used as field artillery. It didn't matter now though. He had been relieved of command.

Peter Parker went his own way. He was not sure where he should be, so he went back to the cabin where he stayed with his Aunt. He entered and looked around. May was not there. He, his aunt, and occasionally his friend Ned had been staying there for 6 weeks now. Peter was suddenly hit by a wave of fatigue. He had been training for the better part of the day, and was exhausted. He cleared a spot on his bunk, and was asleep almost instantly.

0-0-0-0-0

"Ladies and gentlemen, the time to strike is now! We can end the war within the month if this campaign concludes successfully!" General Gruber was enthusiastically shouting to the other officers in his tent. The United Front had made a remarkable comeback in the last few weeks. Gruber had courageously led the last charge one day previous. The UF had set upon a large reserve force of LRA troops on the Planet of Praxis, and crushed them.

"Patience Gruber", Field Marshal Potopovich replied. He was a large man, with a mustache to match his muscles. His soft-spoken voice did not match his looks in the least. "We merely defeated a rearguard, the main body of Business's army will prove a more difficult prey. They still outnumber us by a significant margin. We shall fortify Greenwater Crossing, and wait."

Greenwater Crossing was the town the UF currently occupied. The Green River, so named due to its algae, was to their front. They commanded the bluffs surrounding the northern bank. This allowed their artillery to fire at any point an attacking army might approach from.

"We merely have to wait. We have cut Business's supplies. He will be forced to attack, or withdraw. If he attacks, we will cut his army to pieces. It would be almost suicidal for him to do so, but we can only hope. The more likely outcome is he withdraws. He will lose face, and we will appear to have defeated him. This will harm the centralist cause almost as much as a turkey shoot of his soldiers."

Potopovich's officers nodded their agreement. At the last possible hour, the tide of war seemed to have changed. Business had been outmaneuvered and outgeneraled. However, what Potopovich did not know, was the amount of new troops Business had under his command. Twelve fresh battalions of reinforcements had arrived, putting the LRA troops on the planet of Praxis at 17,000. The UF forces had a scant 4700, barely more than the LRA reinforcements alone.

"We will see in the morning. If Business attacks, and I doubt even he would be foolish enough to do so, we slaughter his troops. If he withdraws, his cause is substantially weakened." He raised a glass of wine, "To destiny". His officers followed suit, and went to bed full of thoughts of victory and returning home.


	3. Chapter 2

Tony Stark set down his bottle. He knew he should try to restrain himself from drinking, but despair and hopelessness continued to take hold. All appeared lost. Incompetent and amateur politicians may have just thrown the dream of Brixas away. Tony sighed, and took another swig. Suddenly, there was a nock on the door of his cabin.

"Enter!"

"General I-"

"I am no longer General."

Sorry, Mr. Stark. I have, er, have been, transferred.

"Transferred? Transferred where?"

"Brixar sir. They are sending 75 soldiers, including me, to reinforce it. I will be defending the Legolmo. You know, that old church."

Tony pondered his next words. Peter was getting older, and Tony had to accept that. He was still nervous. Peter was still young and somewhat inexperienced. However, Tony had no say in the matter. He had been relieved of command. He decided on some words of encouragement, "Be careful Peter. I trust in your abilities. After all, you learned from the best," Tony grinned before continuing, "but please try not to get killed."

"I don't think that's likely sir. All the officers seem to think that if the LRA attacks at all, it will come from the opposite direction. The ground there is better. So is the weather."

Tony nodded. The High Command apparently knew a at least a few things about war.

"When do you leave?" he asked.

"In 15 days. They are taking their time with deployment to avoid a panic. They don't want civilians to think we are running. They are going in three groups of 25. Each leaves every five days. I am in Group Three."

Tony yawned, He only just realized how tired he was.

"Well Peter, I am going to turn in for the night."

Peter nodded and exited. He strode back to his cabin and entered. He looked at the clock. It was close to midnight. Aunt May was asleep. Peter sighed. He was far too nervous to sleep. He could tell from Mr. Stark's tone that the situation was bad. Obviously far worse than anyone here cared to admit. The Brixians had poked the dragon with a stick, and now had to wait for its response.

Peter walked back outside. He decided to go look for Ned. There was no hope of him getting sleep for a while. As he walked toward the Faded Stars Tavern, he looked at the scenery. Brixas truly was a beautiful planet. He could see the night sky, something totally unfamiliar to him.

While Peter was walking, Steve Rogers and James Barnes were at a table in the Tavern. The two had been highly critical of the higher ups in the Brixian Army. They were too valuable to sack, so they had been transferred. Rogers was given command of the Legolmo, and Bucky was assigned as his adjutant. They were leaving first thing in the morning with Group One. Both were furious at this. The Legolmo was in a strategically unimportant area, and there was little chance for them to be helpful while stationed there.

As Peter entered the Tavern for a midnight snack, he heard them arguing. He sat at a table, and prepared for a long, stressful night.

0-0-0-0-0

The Splendid blue uniforms of the LRA Fusiliers clashed horribly with the blood that now stained them. The red of the Skirmishers however, was hardly distinguishable from it. The day had been an exceptionally bloody one. President Business had opted for a direct assault on the United Front's position. It had been preceded by a ferocious artillery duel, which seemed to shake very the ground beneath the feet of the soldiers.

The first wave of the attack took close to 75% casualties. But it was followed by another wave, and then another. A total of seven charges were launched, with a breakthrough occuring on the fifth. The routing UF soldiers were run down by hussars and slaughtered. Field Marshal Potopovich was dead on the field. He had slain three LRA soldiers personally, two by pistol and one by sword. General Gruber had led a final death-ride at the head of his own regiment of Cuirassiers. His body was surrounded by LRA dead. The remainder of the UF's army had been captured throughout the day. Anyone with the rank of Major or higher was summarily shot.

President Business surveyed the battlefield from in front of his tent on the crest of a hill. The sound of musketry could still be occasionally heard. It was the sound of prisoners being executed. Business did not seem the least bit disturbed by this. The look on his face was one of triumph and exultation. He turned and reentered his tent.

Inside was a large table, where his staff currently sat. There was General Percival Stephens, a fanatical supporter of the Centralist Party, and by extension, Lord Business. Stephens often had to be reined in, as his aggressive actions sometimes got in the way of success. General William Hayes sat next to him. Hayes was another man entirely. He was a personal friend of Business, and was an excellent commander who was always cool under fire. But he was overly cautious in the opinion of most of his fellow staff officers, Business included.

Colonel Joshua Griffith was happiest in battle. Business had never seen anything like it. Griffith was shy and soft spoken, until he smelled gunpowder. When that happened, he turned into an animal dedicated to nothing but the destruction of his (and Business's) enemies. He had personally led the last charge that broke the UF forces. Colonel Robert Templeton was Business's personal aid, and a complete sycophant. He passed on and carried out the dictator's every command.

All of the officers stood to attention and saluted as Business entered. Hayes looked troubled. "What is the matter Hayes?" Business asked.

Hayes paused a moment. In his long service to the Lego Republican Army, he had never questioned his country's motivees more than he did now. Hayes considered himself a man of conscience and principle. This put him at odds with the ruthless government of the Centralists. Business kept him around, and possibly kept him alive, for no real apparent reason. Hayes suspected Business needed a conscience, but would never express that sentiment out loud.

"Your Excellency, strength is highly important in a good leader. But, so is mercy. We have shot far too many unarmed soldiers today."

Business looked surprised for a brief moment. He quickly recovered himself, "General, your sentiment is touching, but open dissent against the state cannot be tolerated. I want the families of our fallen troops to be able to know, that justice was served."

The other Generals nodded, but Hayes continued, "Sir, you speak of thief families. One of our men had to watch his own brother be shot. I beg your pardon sir."

Business waved the matter away, "I will hear no more of this negativity. You all performed brilliantly today. I am very proud of you and our conquering soldiers!"

Suddenly, a panting soldier ran into the tent. He dashed to Business, "Forgive me your excellency, but this matter cannot wait. I bring news from Brixas!" He handed Business a sealed dispatch. Business opened it, and took out the letter. As he read, his face dropped more and more. By the time he was finished, he looked as if he would have a conniption. When he spoke, however, his voice has deathly calm.

"That incompetent fool Hacienda has surrendered the Legolmo to the rebels. Brixas is now totally under enemy control."

His officers looked at one another nervously. Hacienda was an old commander. Most agreed that he was far past his prime. Business continued, "We are going to Brixas. It is close to a month's journey there. We leave first thing in the morning." Business looked outside. Hayes caught a look of cold fury on his face. "One more thing. I want every Captain shot as well. Officers will become dangerous dissenters. But never let it be said I am without mercy. Have all soldiers who wish to join us take a loyalty oath. If they refuse, let them go."

Templeton passed on the order, and soon the sound of more firing squads filled the air. Business dismissed his officers, and sat down to enjoy a book and a coffee.


	4. Chapter 3

For the next few weeks, life in Saint Brickington continued as normal. The Brixian Provisional Government continued to debate and make grand, unrealistic, and overly optimistic plans for victory. The Brixian Army continued to train and gained more recruits by the day.

The expedition to attack Legoton was getting ready to depart. It's commander was the newly appointed General Binks. President Stein had nominated him for command of the army, seemingly convinced that he was some kind of military genius. While he had fought in the Clone Wars, his record was far from perfect. He had attended the Lego War College, the fact of which Stein consistently pointed out. What he did not mention however, was that his grades were so awful that he dropped out after less than a semester.

Jar-Jar's troops had absolutely no respect for him, and mocked him constantly. The General seemed not to notice. He oversaw training and gave what he thought were rousing speeches.

The Expeditionary Force was finally ready to leave on November 23. They marched out of Saint Brickington in tight formation, with a band playing "The Girl I Left Behind Me" at their head. They boarded their transports to tumultuous cheers from the townsfolk. How could these brave soldiers lose?

Tony Stark, watching from afar, felt a terrible sense of impending doom. There was no way such a small number could make a difference in the war. The United Front had been badly bloodied, and Tony saw no realistic chance of their succeeding. But the worst news was yet to arrive. The following day, it did. The United Front was done. Its entire leadership was dead, and its army annihilated.

The Brixian leadership once again was thrown into chaos. While they briefly agreed that the United Front must be aided, the old lines were still there. Now with the Centralists victorious, there was nothing holding the fragile government together. Tony was discouraged and disgusted in equal measure.

If the current leadership continued to blunder and fumble their way through the war, defeat would be certain. Tony was suddenly struck with an idea. It was a longshot, but it may yet save Brixas. He returned to his cabin, and sat down to draft a letter.

0-0-0-0-0

Percy Jackson got off the transport ship. It had been a long, perilous journey, but it was almost done. Percy and about a dozen volunteers from Camp Half-Blood had Earth to aid the United Front. Earth was an obvious target for the Centralist Government. It had ample resources and the Sol System was strategically located. The new expansionist policies of the Republic were a threat that many on Earth recognized, but dared not oppose.

There were many volunteers from Earth in both the Brixian Army and the United Front. Camp Jupiter had sent troops to both, while Camp Half-Blood had struggled to stay neutral. It had recently become apparent that neutrality was no longer an option.

Percy had been put in command of an expedition to intervene in the war, and was almost to Brixas. The planet they were on was a haven for Anti-Centralist sentiment, and was the safest option for lodging.

The hassle of dealing with technological changes was very irritating and confusing. For not-well understood reasons, technology, particularly weapons technology, simply refused to work on some worlds. On Brixas, the military and industrial technology was locked in an early 19th Century state. The Lego Republican Army was able to adjust, and had units set aside for any level of technology.

The world they were on, Eridia Prime, had no such limits. The Capital City was a bustling spaceport, and saw visitors from across the multiverse. It was the last port of call before Brixas, and Percy and his companions had stopped to sleep and stock up on supplies.

The demigods booked rooms in the hotel nearest the spaceport, and retired to bed. Percy had difficulty falling asleep; demigod dreams were never pleasant, but they had been far worse lately. A general sense of dread was all pervasive in his dreams.

He knew this was a bad sign, but there was no turning back now. Even if it was practical to do so, Earth was depending on him. He would not return until this war was won. _Or lost._ He shuddered. He shook his head to clear his mind of unpleasant thoughts, and shifted to a more comfortable position.

He had just drifted off to sleep when he was rudely awoken by shouting. He jumped to his feet and looked out the window. There was commotion on the streets. Panicked shouting. He sprinted to the door, and his heart skipped a beat when he saw someone already standing outside. It was Leo.

"Percy! The United Front has been defeated! The Centralists have declared that any world who aided their cause will face retribution. People are evacuating!"

Percy woke up the rest of the campers, who quickly grabbed their gear and weapons. They managed to stay calm (for the most part) and ran to the Spaceport. Their ship was where they left it. It was thankfully reserved for them, and the pilot had already started the engine. They boarded in a hurry. Outside, they could already hear the sounds of approaching bombers and the high pitched whistle and explosion of heavy artillery shells.

The thrusters fired, and the ship took off. Percy looked on the rear scope, and saw dive-bombers attacking the military installations. The sky was filled with high-altitude bombers dropping heavy ordinance. The streets were filled with panicked civilians running for their lives and defenders desperately erecting barricades. Far in the distance, LRA infantry and armor could be seen entering the outskirts.

The transport jumped to hyperspace, and the view was gone, along with the hopes and dreams of millions. Percy collapsed onto the floor, panting. The other demigods were in various stages of shock. Percy cleared his throat and made a great effort to sound calm and collected, rather than scared and panicked before speaking.

"Stay calm everyone! We are safe for now. We will be in Brixas soon, and can start making a difference in this war!"

There were murmurs and nods of approval. Percy sighed. The situation was definitely not in their favor. His only consolation was that Brixas had fared far better than the United Front. He tried to ignore the voice at the back of his mind that said this was only because they were such a low priority.

Brixas' technological level would certainly even the playing field. That was why the United Front stuck to low-tech worlds. They lacked the proper equipment to fight a modern war. Percy went to his cabin. He needed rest, and nightmares or no, he would get it.

0-0-0-0-0

Peter Parker slung his musket over his shoulder. The day had come to move out. He was to report to the town square in 45 minutes. Aunt May gave him a crushing hug, and spoke, holding back tears, "Be careful Peter. If something happened to you… I can't think of that. Good luck." Peter hugged her just as tight. He knew his posting was in a quiet area. He knew he would see Aunt May again. But yet, he still worried. When they seperated, Peter left the cabin in a hurry. He was doing his utmost to avoid crying himself.

He decided to say his goodbyes to Mr. Stark and Ned. He set off towards the Tavern, where they had decided to meet. He met Ned at the door. "Peter, I have news!" He picked up a musket from his table, "I joined up! We can fight together!"

Peter grinned, "That's great Ned! Any word on where you will be posted?"

"Not yet. I have to finish training before I get my assignment."

"Well, Ned. This is goodbye for now. I will be going to Brixar as soon I say goodbye to Mr. Stark." They embraced and parted. Peter entered the Tavern, and saw Tony sitting at a table, eating his breakfast. He saw Peter approach and forced a smile, "Hey kid."

"Hey Mr. Stark. I came to say goodbye for now."

Tony nodded and stood up. He extended his hand, "Good luck, Mr. Parker."

The two grinned and shook hands. As Peter exited, Tony couldn't shake a nervous feeling. For an instant, he felt as if he would never see the boy again. He put it out of his mind just as quickly.

Tony returned to his omelette. He thought of his unfinished letter. He was trying to convey in writing the urgency of the situation. Thor and Bruce had been eager to fight the Centralists, along with the rest of the Avengers. But they had joined the army of the United Front. They became disillusioned with the cause, as the UF's leadership became more and more authoritarian. Potopovich was essentially another dictator by the time of his death.

This could be somewhat justified; the leadership had to be decisive, especially considering the odds against them. But the two could not get over Potopovich's ruthlessness. His decision to execute General Franklin, an alleged LRA war criminal, without trial was the last straw. The two had returned to Earth, tired of fighting for a dictator.

Tony was certain they would join the fight again when they heard of the Brixian cause. His decided to finish his letter. He got up from the table, left a substantial tip, and returned to his cabin.


	5. Chapter 4

Steve Rogers sighed in exasperation. The situation in Brixar was embarrassingly bad. The previous Commander was none other than the current leader of the Legoton Expedition. Jar-Jar had neglected the fortifications of the Legolmo and badly mismanaged the deployment of his troops. Rogers had spent his first six days in Brixar correcting the previous mistakes of Binks.

He strolled over to the Cantina. It was the center of the social life of Brixar, and was always bustling with activity. He saw Bucky conversing with the latest group of volunteers. Rogers saw how young they were, and shook his head. _These are merely kids._ He knew the situation was desperate, but he never was able to get over the age of the new soldiers. Many were very old, but even more were very young.

One of the leaders of the new recruits, a muscular young man with blond hair, smiled and shook Bucky's hand. Bucky smiled back, "Hello. Cato isn't it?

"Yes sir. Just arrived a few days ago. Hoping this place can provide some peace and a break from the nonstop action we have had to endure. If you will excuse me though, I have to get back to my duties."

The two exchanged salutes and parted. Bucky saw Rogers and smiled, "Steve! I thought you were supervising the repairs on the North Wall."

"Taking a break. The new engineers are doing an excellent job. That kid, Marvel, is doing far better than I expected." The two sat down to lunch and drinks. Barnes noticed that something seemed to be troubling Steve. He had a very slight look of concern, but it was noticeable.

"Steve, I know that luck. What's wrong?"

Rogers took a long sip of his drink before answering. His reply was a borderline rant, "The United Front has collapsed. The only organized resistance against the Centralists now are the Constitutionalists. They are too divided to put up an effective fight. We put our hopes in Potopovich, and now he is dead. More and more systems are declaring independence, and warlord after warlord seem to think they can match Business. This war is not going to end any time soon."

Bucky did not know what to say to this, as Rogers was definitely right to be worried. The National Army of Constitutional Restoration, commonly called the Constitutionalists, had originally been part of the United Front, but had split off in protest of Potopovich's authoritarian policies. They were idealistic in politics, and unrealistic in war. WIth the United Front gone, they stood no chance.

Brixas now appeared to have but one option: formal independence from the republic. It was strange. What little political news Bucky had received from Saint Brickington over the last few weeks seemed to indicate that if Brixas took part in the war, they would be throwing their lot in with the United Front. This was a cause the Avengers could get behind. Fighting for independence seemed to make them just another clique of Warlords.

Bucky cleared his mind of these thoughts. Business was the bad guy, there could be no doubt about that. Whatever they fought for, Business had to be defeated.

"You're very quiet," said Steve, "I'm sorry for unloading on you. I just can't shake this feeling that something is very wrong. Something we don't know about. Ah well. I have to get back to my post. Have a good afternoon Bucky." Barnes gave a mock salute and forced a smile, before returning to his post.

At the same time, Peter and the rest of the third group were entering town. A band played at their head, and it would have been a splendid sight if the unit had some sort of uniformity. As it was, the ragtag group of volunteers looked barely better than a mob. However, they were still a welcome sight. The townsfolk were nervous, despite assurances that the LRA would not return. The soldiers were tired from the day's march, but perked up when they saw the cantina.

At the North Wall of the Legolmo, Marvel and the rest of the engineer company were finishing up with the repairs. The wall appeared to be as good as it would get. However, that was not a good thing. The wall was a wreck, and would most likely have to be demolished and rebuilt. This was not possible at present, as they had strict orders to leave it intact.

In any case, the repairs would most likely prove unneeded. An attack here was unlikely at best. Marvel looked at the work of his engineers, and nodded with approval. Marvel and the rest of his unit were refugees from the state of Panem. They were to be tributes in the Hunger Games, but had managed to stage a mass escape from The Capitol.

Panem was openly supportive of the Centralists, and the tributes had to flee from Business's forces. Brixas seemed a very good place to begin their new lives, and thus, here they were. Their unit's commander was Haymitch Abernathy. He was a tolerable fighter, but his experience in the games would certainly prove helpful in the war. His alcoholism occasionally proved troublesome, but he was sober when on duty and led his band of tributes and mentors with determined bravery.

Peter Parker was just as tired as the rest, but was too excited about his new posting to care. When he entered the cantina, his nose was met with aroma of food cooking. He tried to ignore the odor of strong liquor. In a corner, a group of Rebel Troopers sat around a table, drinking and chatting. At the bar, Haymitch was talking with an officer of the regulars.

There were few regulars here, and they generally kept to themselves. They had the reputation of having superiority complexes and contempt for the volunteers. This was only partly true. Professional officers tended to not rely on volunteers, but this was out of common sense and necessity. Volunteers lacked discipline. Ironically, the volunteers tended to distrust the regulars far more than the other way around.

The regular army was outnumbered by the volunteers nearly five to one. The regulars were uniformed and had (mostly) standardized equipment. Volunteers on the other hand, varied widely in quality. Their best units, such as the Rebel Legion, were equivalent to the regulars in training and equipment quality. Most were not. Volunteer units sometimes elected their own officers, and this led to command being a popularity contest. Stark had done his best to end this tradition and with heavy opposition. He had failed.

Peter sat alone while he ate. He missed Ned, but planned on writing to him often. This war seemed almost over, and he had not taken part in any measurable way. He had mixed feelings about this, as he was still nervous at the thought of killing another human. It was one thing to know how to operate a musket, it was another to send a lead ball through someone's body. He didn't even contemplate the thought that he could be a casualty. He felt, along with the rest of the Brixian Army, that intoxicating feeling of invulnerability that comes with being undefeated.

Day tuned to night, and Peter went to bed. Haymitch remained in the cantina, and was semi-successful in avoiding total inebriation. Marvel and his engineers, all covered in sweat, entered at around 9 o'clock. The rest of tributes trickled in as the night went on, and sat down for dinner. Cato, a career from District 2, had done a relatively good job at befriending what would have been his prey, had they not escaped. He was chatting over a bowl of stew with Breck, the boy from District 4, and Katniss Everdeen.

Around 10:30, Frank Zhang, a regular in the New Roman Legion, entered the room at a brisk pace. He approached Haymitch, and began to speak, "Sir, sentries report movement outside of town".


	6. Chapter 5

Percy Jackson was woken up by Annabeth shaking him. She covered his mouth with her hand, and put a finger to her lips. Around the campsite, frantic whispering could be heard. Annabeth removed her hand, and talked very quietly, "Percy, Travis Stoll saw a group of armed people approaching from Brixar. What should we do?"

Percy blinked the sleep from his eyes, and considered this. If they were Brixians, there would be no trouble. If they were LRA, they would have to fight. Percy decided after about 30 seconds. He cocked his new musket, and approached the edge of the campsite. He gave instructions at just above a whisper, "I am going to call out. If they are friends, no problem. If they are not, we fire a volley and get out of here. Everyone understand?" The Demigods nodded.

"You know, sneaking up on people in the middle of the night is not the nicest thing to do?!" Percy called into the night. Frantic voices told him the group had heard him.

A voice called out in response, "What are you doing out here? This area is restricted at night!"

Percy called back, "My name is Percy Jackson! I have about 30 volunteers from Earth with me. We are Demigods from Camp Half Blood!"

Suddenly a figure appeared out of the shadows. Haymitch, Cato, and Frank entered the firelight with muskets over their shoulders. On seeing Percy, Frank grinned broadly, and ran to him. Percy received a crushing bearhug, which he returned. "Frank! I had hoped you guys would be here! What's been going on?" The group, now much larger, entered town. Frank filled Percy in on what had happened since he left Earth, while Percy exchanged greetings with Haymitch and the rest of the impromptu posse.

0-0-0-0-0

The Lego Republican Army under Business continued its Journey. They had finally landed on Brixas, and were disembarking from their transports. The army assembled rapidly and efficiently, with every soldier reporting to the correct unit quickly. When every soldier of one unit was in order, the unit would begin its advance, and the next unit would begin to assemble.

President Business watched from the back of his splendid horse with approval. The army would be in striking range of seven Brixian Towns within 30 hours, if the schedule was maintained. All that was in their way was the small town of Brixas, which should not detain them long at all. He ceased his pondering when General Hayes approached him on his own steed, "Your excellency, scouts report enemy movement to the west. It appears a Brixian force is preparing to leave the planet."

"How many?"

"1200, give or take."

Business could not believe what he was hearing. What were these traitors thinking? The United Front was crushed, and the ACR was losing ground fast. "These traitors must be insane to deliver themselves up to us like this. Are there any settlements near them?"

"Yes, your excellency. There is a small fort nearby. Fort Reliant." Business smiled.

"A few shots, and they flee to it. It shall be their tomb. Send General Garibaldi with 3 squadrons of dragoons. Have them drive them to the fort. 2 batteries of artillery shall follow when they are encircled."

"At once your excellency." Hayes passed the order on, and a detachment of horsemen peeled off from the column. Business smiled in a benevolent sort of way, as if he was watching a group frolicking rabbits, rather than the instruments of his iron will.

That smile. Hayes knew it well, and it always made him uncomfortable. Business reserved that smile for the imminent destruction of his enemies. Hayes cleared his mind. The war must be won, and war is an ugly business.

0-0-0-0-0

The advance of Jar-Jar's column was disorganized and ragged. Sergeant Archer, a 10 year veteran of first the LRA then the Brixian militia, had seen his fair share of poor officers. But Jar-Jar was a whole new level of incompetent. The column sent no skirmishers or outriders to screen their movement, and they were vulnerable from minute one. They also had no particular organization to their marching. Order had broken down within an hour of their departure, with no effort made to correct it.

Archer recognized the area they were in. The Portal to the nearest advanced world was not far, and Fort Reliant could be seen in the distance. Archer heard a crack, and the man next to him dropped. He looked down. The man had a perfectly round hole in his forehead. Archer cried out in alarm, and panic took hold almost immediately. The sound of musketry could be heard from the woods next to them, and Archer realized with horror that they had walked into an ambush.

What had started as a few cracks became a roar of constant fire. The soldiers around leapt into the ditch beside the road, and returned fire. The fire was merciless, and at least two dozen had been hit. Archer took aim into the woods, and fired at a moving figure. The figure fell, and he nodded with satisfaction. He heard a horse scream, and realized this was dismounted cavalry facing them. "Muy muy! Wesa must flee to the fort! At the double quick!"

The retreat began. The entire column sprinted toward the fort, with soldier after soldier falling, with wounds in their backs. By some miracle, Archer made it to the fort. Once he was safely inside, he looked back. The dead and dying covered the ground all the way back to the road. With horror, Archer saw the enemy cavalry circle the fort, covering all routes of escape. The trained dragoons fired from horseback at nearly full gallop, keeping the defenders suppressed.

Archer looked to the soldier next to him. He was a green kid who couldn't be older than 19. The boy was shaking with fear. Archer reached to squeeze his shoulder, but a deafening explosion went off right next to them. _They had artillery._ Archer looked back at the kid. He was dead. Shrapnel had decapitated him. Archer sighed sadly. Another explosion went off, followed by two more in quick succession. This tiny, outdated fort would be no match for LRA artillery. This was not looking good.


End file.
